


The Preparation of the Vessels

by frumious_bandersnatch



Category: Supernatural
Genre: Grooming, I’m so sorry, M/M, Multi, Rape, Sex Slavery, Torture, dubcon, noncon, paedophillia, this is dark
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2019-10-30
Updated: 2019-11-06
Packaged: 2021-01-13 08:48:02
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence, Major Character Death, Rape/Non-Con, Underage
Chapters: 2
Words: 932
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/21241385
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/frumious_bandersnatch/pseuds/frumious_bandersnatch
Summary: Hell comes into possession of the true vessels early. They set about prepping for the apocalypse.





	1. Introduction

John hadn’t thoughtthey were serious until the fire. He was trying so hard to pay off his debt, he’d only been given a week to come up with the half a million he’d owed. His boys had made it outside, young as they were. Just eight and four. Mary didn’t have the same luck, thanks to the knife she took to the throat. But that did give him an idea.

“Oh, of course we’ll take them off your hands.” Azazel nodded, eyes narrowed as he regarded John. So many years ahead of schedule, too, this was perfect. “They’ll pay your debt just nicely.” They wouldn’t even need to be broken into vessels, he thought. He was wrong.

“Yes, Mr. Winchester, nothing, mm, nothing to worry about. Hm? Of course they won’t be harmed. No, no, just menial tasks, of course, we’ll even teach them trades.” Alastair added, thankful the man hadn’t breached the world of the supernatural. That could have ended up much, much worse. He just thought they were some sort of criminals. It was a pure accident he met them at the casino, and pure luck they’d cheated him out of his money and into debt.

“Then I’ll...I’ll sign’em over to ya.” John swallowed, palms sweaty as he fumbled with the ballpoint pen.

“Good man, John. You’ve made the right choice.”

“Truly, mm, we’ll even set you up with a new house. A parting gift. We do wish we hadn’t had to have gone to such extreme measures, but...mm, we take debt seriously.” Alastair added, shark linked smile seeming to spread back to his ears.

John signed his name and nodded, biting his lip. “And you’ll pick them up tomorrow?”

“Yes, John. Make sure you have time to say goodbye.”

And with that, John was gone. Driving his old fixer-upper of an impala to the crappy hotel he was staying in with his sons until he could find a new house. “Sammy? Dean? I’m home.” He sighed, pushing open the door and managing a tired smile when he saw them huddled up watching a rerun of Scooby-Doo on the old TV sat on a broken shelf.

“Hi Daddy.” Dean sat and padded over, wrapping his father’s shins in a hug so big John almost felt the boy knew what was coming. “Hey, kiddo.” He greeted, ruffling Dean’s short hair. “You excited? I’ve got a surprise for you two tomorrow.”

“Really?” Dean looked up, eyes wide and innocent. “Is mom coming?”

John cringed, looking down. “...Yeah, Dean. She’ll meet you there.” He said quietly kneeling down and returning Dean’s hug. “I love you. Now why don’t you and Sam get washed up and into bed, huh?” He swallowed thickly, rubbing Dean’s back. “You’re in for a long day tomorrow.”

Dean nodded and walked off to the bathroom with cracked mildewed tiles, helping his brother onto a stool and brushing his teeth


	2. Chapter Two

Alastair slid into the front seat of his Bentley 8-Litre (last driven in 1942) and have a soft hum as he relaxed against the well maintained leather upholstery. If there was one thing he relished in more than carving into souls, it was taking care of this car.

Azazel got in a fair bit less gently, grumbling all the way. “How the hell do you know how to drive and I don’t- ridiculous- we should have just flown, made matters easier instead of getting into this steel death trap.”

A small chuckle. “What, is the big bad Prince of Hell scared of a silly little human invention? Oh, mm, I’d hate to see your reaction to television.” Alastair put the car in gear and slowly pulled out of the lot of a warehouse.

“I’m not an idiot, I know what television is.” Azazel didn’t bother buckling himself in, frowning as he listened to the purr of the engine. “It’s like scrying.”

“To a point. There’s animation, and shows that aren’t real at all. Of course, I haven’t seen anything recent. But I have heard it’s in color now.” Alastair nodded, eyes flashing white before he slammed a hand into the car’s horn and swore in a language long forgotten to man. Road rage, it seemed, crossed the barriers of species.

Azazel jumped when a car swerved in front of them, snarling as he raised s hand to snap his fingers.

“Careful there, mm, Azazel. We don’t want to draw attention to ourselves, remember?” Alastair pulled into the lot of a dingy little motel and wrinkled his nose. “You can practically smell the filth. I hope the boys haven’t caught anything...unpleasant.” He handed a pair of sunglasses to Azazel, who showed no sign of letting his eyes go back to normal. He straightened his tie and rose to his full impressive height, gently shutting the car door behind him as he strode to the door of room number 33.

Azazel stayed put for a moment before his eyes flickered to his vessel’s regular grey and he too exited the car, following after his friend and associate.

Alastair leaded his throat, scratching at his short salt and pepper beard before he rapped on the door. “Mr. Winchester.” He said clearly, eyes affixed predatorily on the shorter man.

“Ah...Mr. Picasso. Pleasure to see you again.” John grunted, staring a hole in the mildewed carpet. “The boys’re in the kitchen. You’d best get’em before they wake up any more.” He mumbled, slowly walking his way over to the couch and sitting. He held his head in his hands, eyes screwed shut. He’d failed Mary, and he’d failed his boys.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hnnngh I’m sorry the next chapters will be longer I promise

**Author's Note:**

> Comments and kudos are welcome! Feel free to give any requests :)


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